


But It's Written In the Starlight

by CaptainLeBubbles



Series: Maybe You're Here Because You Don't Fit In Anywhere Else (Rollercoaster HSAU) [9]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 05:50:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4423787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainLeBubbles/pseuds/CaptainLeBubbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sarge has a moment alone with an unconscious Grif.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But It's Written In the Starlight

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to put this in the main narrative but since I don't want to use Sarge as a pov character and I didn't want someone to witness it (the intrusion would take away from it, I think) so have it as a side story instead. Takes place that first night, after everyone else has gone home.

There comes a moment, when everyone has left and it is merely Sarge, left to sit by his son's bedside and stare at the heart monitor, at the steady beep.... beep... beep... and the spikes that show that his heart is, with help, working, at the readout that tells him that his breathing is at one hundred percent, with the help of a breathing tube, at the monitor that says his iv drip is working well, at the many machines that are keeping his son _alive_ and Sarge can do nothing but sit there and trust in the technology he has no understanding of and the doctors that he can only hope know what they're doing.

He sits for a long time, staring unmoving at the green spikes, those green spikes that Dr. McAllister has assured him mean his son is alive, that he is still alive and will remain so in the foreseeable future.

And there comes a moment when he can't stare at those green spikes anymore and he buries his face in his hands, when he wrings his hands and clasps them under his chin, his elbows digging painfully into his knees (but he likes the pain because it anchors him) and he fixes his eyes on a point somewhere out the window, a red dot moving slowly across the night sky in the distance, and he starts praying because in this moment, it's all he can do.

“ _God?_ ” he says, quietly, and then repeats it, stronger. “ _God, it's me. Uh, Sarge. You probably don't remember me, I don't really come talk to you that much. Don't usually really have anything to say. But now- I_ _ **need**_ _ya'. My boy here- he's hurt, real bad. They're talking like he might die kinda bad._ ”

The word catches in his throat. He swallows around a lump in his throat. Presses on.

“ _And I can't- I just wanted to ask if you'd do something to sort that out for me. Cause- he don't deserve it. He's a good boy, God. He might not always act like it- I know he don't always act like it... he's got all this potential, you know, and he won't use it. But he's still a good boy. In church every Sunday, always puts money in the offering plate. Takes care of his sister and brother, oh, I know he won't admit he cares but he does. And dying to something like this, it's not- he don't deserve it. He's got such a future ahead of him._ ”

There are tears forming in his eyes. He scrubs them away irritably.

“ _I know I don't come to ya much and maybe I should, that's supposed to get you moved up in the queue, but if you could find it in ya to help my boy, I'd appreciate it. I'd do anything, anything at all not to lose him. Please don't take my boy away from me God._ ” He scrubs his tears away again. “ _I don't know if I can lose another one._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> There's a reason I tell people to read the sidestories.


End file.
